


Come to Me

by blxck_heart



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Mob, Anal Gaping, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bad Boy Zayn, Blood As Lube, Blood and Violence, Bottom Louis, Breeding, Brutal Murder, Crossdressing, Daddy Kink, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, Feminization, Gang Violence, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Torture, Killer Harry, M/M, Mob Boss Harry, Multi, Pining, Prostate Milking, Role Reversal, Rough Sex, Top Harry, University Student Liam, University Student Louis, University Student Niall, Wall Sex, Weaponsexual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 07:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16300988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blxck_heart/pseuds/blxck_heart
Summary: Nineteen year old Louis William Tomlinson is a young college student & part-time freelance photographer who lives by the motto;' Live fast. Have fun. And be a bit mischievous. 'After encountering "Mr. Curls" at a nightclub in the rural county of Cheshire... Well- let's just say things get a little complicated in the Doncaster boys life.Enter cold, insensitive, apathetic Mafia lord Harry Edward Styles (age 26), who might I add is continuously running into "Blue eyed boy" at every waiting corner.A rocky cat and mouse relationship ensures between the two as fate constantly draws the two towards one another.orA saga of crime, punishment, betrayal and entertainment in the outskirts of London...





	1. Lust of the Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''Each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can't strike them all by ourselves.''  
> ― Laura Esquivel, Like Water for Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a comment or kudos for more !

* * *

 

     

 

     

 

     

 

Louis walked into the cavernous like building, a bright and arresting nightclub pinpointed off the pleasant countryside of the **Golden** **Triangle.**

As he entered the lounge the intermixed stench of smoke and sweaty bodies abruptly assaulted his nostrils as he inhaled deeply.

Tomorrow's his first day of Uni at Woodland University and after that his part-time job as a journalist with London weekly.

Now you might be asking yourself, ' _Louis, why are you out clubbing on a bloody Sunday night when you've got all this important shit to do tomorrow_?' or ' _Wouldn't it have been logical to of just stayed home to get some much needed rest for your big day tomorrow morning instead of going to some nightclub to get drunk off your arse_?' oh, oh or ' _How could you have made such a blunder, for shame Louis... for shame_!'

In which my answer to said questions would simply have been, yolo my fellow lads and birds.

Yolo!

Besides tonight wasn't Louis' idea to go clubbing.

No, his plan was to worry himself to sleep with thoughts of tomorrow's big events.

But that plan went straight out the window when best mates Oli, Calvin, and Stan suggest going out clubbing to celebrate the lads first day as a university freshman.

" _Where the hell are those nobs I call friends in this damned club_!" he thought. Pushing his small frame through the pulsating horde of bodies.

Finally finding his way to an empty barstool in the far corner of the shadowy room. Immediately spotting Stan coming his way.

Two figures following closely behind. A slight totter in their stride.

"Jesus Stan did'ya spike their drinks when they weren't lookin or somethin'ya menace you!" Glacier eyes chuckles. Elbowing Stan who gives a small leer.

Seeing as Louis' giggling Oli & Calvin immediately follow in suit.

Laughing along, completely oblivious to the fact that Louis is laughing at them not with them.

Those poor, poor non sober boys.

"They literally had two beers and a screwdriver!" Stan huffs. Crossing broad arms over his chest.

"Fucking weak I tell'ya." he remarks with a shake of his head.

"Lightweights, aye?" Louis chirps. Leaping onto his feet, with not an ounce of difficulty might I add, sadistically clapping the two drunkards on their back. "Lets get plastered, yeah!" a chorus of hell yeahs being shouted not a second later as the crew of imbeciles bound towards the dance floor.

But... not before tumbling to the ground with a loud thud due to Oli and Cal's weight leaning against the smaller lad. A tittering Stan silently following behind his three idiot friends.

Two hours of filthy dancing and several random contacts later, Louis has already consumed two Jack Daniels (on the rocks), a Gin and Tonic, and now in his hand a fuzzy navel.

Louis eyed the amber liquid and the golden glow of the glass-like cubes.

He poked them with his perfectly manicured nail to hear them jingle in the pre-dawn silence. He watched, entranced, as they bounce back up- remaining mostly submerged like mini icebergs.

Wrapping his semi-long fingers around the glass, he felt his heat leach into the drink.

Alcohol. The elixir of his life. He raised the glass to sip, feeling the keen burn on his tongue and throat- a burn that made him recoil as a boy.

Yet now it was a feeling he longed for right from the being of his life forever altering.

Louis lowered the glass to the table, letting it fall heavily, but not so much it spilt.

He rested his head in his left hand, still mesmerized by the fluid, only now he observed the sticky clear substance on the rim. One day he'd remember to wipe his face clean first before going out to get hammered...

He sits at the bar taking his third sip from the icy, cold, slightly sweet and tangy drink.

Holding the glass against thin pink lips as his body trembles. Inkling a keen gaze.

Someone's checking him out. Sizing him up. Trying to make eye contact.

But Louis would be damned if whoever this person may be thinks he'd even spare them a glance without them working for said attention.

Now don't get him wrong.

Louis' not some snotty-like, conceited person. No;

he's your average male specimen, who just so happens to like playing the ever so popular game of hard to get.

Making people crave... I mean _work_ for his attention.

The sudden feel of firm hands slowly positioning themselves around a slim waist, causes the blue eyed beauty to jerk at the sweet sensation of such strong palms.

Upper body pivoting, eyes locking in on amber-like irises.

There was only one word to describe the sun-kissed Grecian.

Where his eyes were the green of fresh dew glinting in the sunlight off a leaf of green emerald. His lips were pale and thin and his nose slender and rounded. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen.

He was an Adonis among the other men who each pale in comparison.

One look and both men and women alike swooned at the sight of him no matter their sexual preferences. Why just one word passed from his lips had even the straightest of men flushing shades of red that no one ever knew was naturally possible. Adonis.

 

* **Louis Pov** *

 

God, there were no words that could sum up the intense wave of emotions this man filled me with.

The ample passions arrived unannounced and ended explosively, like cobalt bombs.

Lechery without a doubt hitting me the hardest and, _'_ _oh just fuck me stiff in a dark corner plea-'_

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when those sinful hands fall from prominent hips to move across the front pockets of navy blue skinny jeans.

Their absence causing the hairs on the back of my neck to bristle along with the small hairs on my arms; despite me wearing a jacket in this sweltering heat.

"Accompany me to the dance floor, love?" the vision asks the question smoothly.

The baritone of his voice reverberating through my bones as Adonis slides a strong arm over his shoulders.

The low rumble of his voice is comforting as it wraps around me. Carrying me off to a world where sound is the power that could change any & everything in the world.

I squeak. Flushing lightly when I noticed that the dreamboat was waiting for an answer.

''I'm fine.'' I pipe. The chuckle that counters is that soft, rolling thunder that billows across the dark skies on a stormy night.

Visibly do I begin to tremble with want, making the leer he wore even more prominent.

In his arrogant triumph, he smirked- just a small pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head. It was so subtle.

It was even more infuriating for me who caught a glimpse of it after making the foolish mistake.

Oh you think I'm going to be easy don't you, you sexy asshole. Well;

your in for quite the shock, _love_ _._

"If you hadn't already noticed, you'd have seen that I'm currently _accompanying_ my drink." I speak, tone bored and dry.

"Now please, run along.'' I sassily remark.

Eyes not once straying from my drink whilst I wave my hand about in a ta-ta motion. ''Your ruining our time together." I huff, feigning annoyance.

Adonis quirks a perfectly arched brow at my words.

Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

Like he's never had anyone deny him. Ever.

"So you're gonna ditch me... for a bevvy?" he asks dumbfounded and dammit he still looks hot as fuck! _Speaking of fuck_ -

I roll my eyes at the oh so vivid thoughts swirling about in my head. "Actually, it's a fuzzy navel." I speak pretending as though I've not taken not even an ounce of interest in the conversation we're currently having.

But god knows I am _interested_ in something...

His eyes shift to my beverage, looking as though genuinely keen in my drink of choice. Even though we both know he isn't the slightest bit, he regards.

"Oh, is it now." He drawls, cocking his head to the side.

Shamefully displaying that sinful grin as he seductively inquires,

"Mind if I have a sip?" He submits. Biting at sultry lips. 

'Hell yes!' my brain yells at the same time I shout, "Hell no!" Promptly feeling the heat thats steadily creeping onto my features as several heads turn my way. Silently judging no doubt.

"Why?" he queries. Shoulders slumped and eyes cast down in a mournful gaze. His mouth was set in a semi pout, as brawny limbs crossover an barrel-chested Adonis.

The action reminding me of a petulant child when his mom denies him of a toy from the grocery market. _Damn he must have been one hell of a kid!_ Well,

now I feel as though I'm committing a crime.

"Your a stranger." I retort at his stupidity. Clearly stating the obvious.

"No I'm not!'' he counters. Feigning hurt. ''I mean you can't just talk to a random person... that's weird!" Adonis shrieks. Almost causing me to break into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. Well fuck,

_Sexy and riotous._

_What is this witchery?_ _!_

"Well you are in my book.'' I pipe, tittering some.

Figuring I'd give Adonis- _Apollo_ ( _that's the name I've decided to give him_ ) a little mercy so we can do the do already.

"I am no stranger." Apollo states, though less confident than last.

"Are too." I childishly counter. Smiling if only just a tad bit at the sudden change in behavior. But I speak not of it as,

Kicking at the marble flooring he whines, "Am. Not." he counters. Scuffing up his loafers in the process.

"Yes." comes my frivolous reply.

 _Are we seriously doing this now?_ I question myself, getting a bit weirded out by the sudden turn of events.

"No!" he mocks with clenched fists.

"Yes!" I rasp, getting a little-

"Love it when you moan for me, Cupcake." he grunts. Leaning into my seated form. And,

okay does this guy have some type of personality disorder I should know about or what. Because I don't think I can keep up with this back and forth shit.

And "Cupcake?" Who the hell nicknames a person Cupcake? What is he a-

"It's a _sweet_ name to call a _yummy_ guy." he simpers. Slowly but surely inching closer and closer to my small frame until he's positioned directly in front of me.

"Don't you think, Sweetheart?"

I'm having an even harder time trying to suppress the blush that's threatening to surface.

I'm at a lost for words as I make an attempt at turning my head to the side.

Trying oh so desperately to avert my gaze; but the sudden rosiness of my cheeks no doubt gives me away.

This is the first time something like this has ever happened to me. Louis fucking Tomlinson!

"We-well, uh... I-i think-" I don't have a comeback for that and I'm shuddering.

Shit like this just doesn't happen to the Tommo! _Oh he's so gonna_ -

The feeling of colossal-  _tepid_  palms lightly caressing over prominent cheekbones, snaps me out of my murderous daze.

I make a puerile attempt of swatting at beefy fists. 

Blushing would have been no problem, but what I did was go as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. You could have cooked a three course meal on my face.

No one could have missed it.

I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. God, I'm such an embarrassment.

"Since you don't seem like the pet name... mind telling me your name, love.'' he asks.

Tracing small patterns onto succulent thighs. And for the life of me, I couldn't think. 

''Seeing as I don't plan on us being _strangers_ much longer."

And in that split second, all I could do was blink at the hunk of a man, as he repeated said question once more.

"What's your name, doll?" and if those four letters weren’t what left me feeling light-headed; then I don't know the cause.

My mind turned into absolute mush.

Thoughts. Wordings.

I could neither perceive nor process the correct phraseology even if my life were on the line.

My Apollo does nothing. Patiently awaiting a rejoinder. But as luck would have it,

It would appear that I've seemed to have forgotten my own bloody name!

The same name I've been using since birth, 19 years ago.

Oh come on Boobear think of a name. Think of a bloody name, the voices bellow against one another. Notions spiraling. Think of "Gr- gretchen!" I shout.

Causing a few bar patrons to turn their viewings in our direction yet again.

The blush I so desperately tried to keep at bay begins to surface.

' _Gretchen Louis..._ _ **Gretchen**_ _! Thats the best you could do you imbecile. If we don't end up with his cock up our ass later tonight it's all your fault!',_ my inner thoughts scream. And they're right.

"Gretchen?" Apollo smirks.

"All the names in the world. Out there, ready for the taking, and you chose Gretchen.”

"What do you think this is? A Pokémon battle? That's my name ya'know. Me mom & dad thought I'd be a girl; so they stuck with that." I pout with narrowed eyes. Red in the face.

"Besides there's like, millions of Gretchen's out there."

"Yeah like the lunch lady from my old high school days." Apollo murmurs.

A far away look appears at his features. Not a second later his face contorts into that of complete and utter horror. Then he's having a full blown cringe attack. And at that I lose it, erupting in a fit of giggles.

Okay, Hercules. I'll admit you've caught me hook line and sinker.

Now lets cut the games and chit-chat, so you can fuck me stiff in one of the bathroom stalls, pretty please!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have other books to write on but I've such writers block liiiiike; it's not even funny ! That's also part of why I'm not writing like how I used to... Eh. I'll get that inspiration again.


	2. Honey of the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously on Come to Me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's to chapter 2.
> 
> Leave a comment or drop a kudos for more !

* * *

 

          

 

      

 

Louis doesn't notice when the stranger stops his treacherous attack nor does he catch the way Apollos peepers fond over him as he carries on the intense laughing fit. 

"Hey!" Hercules huffs with a soft smile. "Don't go laughing at my pain. You know nothing of the dangers and hardships that woman's caused me." he pouts in mock anger.

Blue eyes laughter still hasn't died down as he chokes out, "What like clean-ing the ca-cafeteria?" He forces; rambunctious laughter letting out. 

Hercules can do nothing but groan.

Thinking back to his old high school days. Huffing at cringe worthy memories,

"No like cleaning the cafeteria _and_ helping her dish out an interesting pile of mush, also known as 'The Dreaded School Lunch' to my fellow schoolmates." he all but drawls. Shuddering at the vomitous remembrance. 

"D-did you have to we-wear t-the hair ne-net?" Sapphire orbs grills.

Slender hands covering his ever growing smile.

The Herculean stranger pouts, slowly nodding his head & voicing a small- _barely inaudible,_ ''Yes. Yes I did.''

''Oh you poor, poor boy!'' Louis swoons.

Gripping at Hercules ash brown curls with one hand and throwing the other around his neck.

Pulling the beauteous man impossibly closer to himself thus nuzzling his face into the crook of his strangers neck. The alcohol must be getting to the little lad now.

Hercules doesn't think twice about the smaller lads sudden affection towards him. Immediately returning the embrace.

Suddenly wanting to hold the blue eyed beauty close and protect him from all the evils in world.He thinks this boy...;

This teeny- _tiny_ , little lagoon eyed, feathery haired boy in his arms could be someone he can hold dear.

He wants to be apart of his life, because he feels Louis' a puzzle piece in his. See;

There are no extra pieces in the universe. Everyone is here because he or she has a place to fill, and every piece must fit into that big jigsaw puzzle.

And even though Adonis doesn't know exactly where the pixie-like doll fits... he knows his life will never be complete without him in it.

This might sound sudden but he feels as if he needs this boy and he can only hope that he feels the same.

Louis' absent mindlessly cuddling his stranger when he lazily starts, "You know. Now that I think about that lunch lady, her name wasn't Gretchen." he says rubbing at the base of the smaller lads back.

''It wasn't?'' Louis questions. Voice drawling out and dazed as he tries his hardest to stay awake.

The strangers presence causing him to droop from where he sat. Inhaling the sweet scent of coconut & jasmine.

''Nope, I lied.'' Adonis smirks. Mirth shining through his gruff timbre, though the other party doesn't seem to take notice.

Leaning near the beauties ear, a whiskey-soaked voice speaks.

''Her name was actually Beatrice, _Gretchen_.'' he murmurs. Dropping the last three words of the sentence to a low grumble.

I all but quiver at the sudden change of tone. 

''Who the hell is Gret-'' Oh my god!

I just fucking gave myself away, didn't I?

I know that when I look up he's gonna have that shit eating grin on his face, I just know it.

Reluctantly, do I remove myself from brawny arms.

Hesitantly raising my head and what do you know. Just as I'd predicted.

The corners of his mouth were turned up in that infamous smirk of his. Goddamnit. He tricked me!

''What's wrong, Gretchen?'' he mocks. Cocky simper on full display.

''Forgot the name your Ma' and Pa' gave you,'' he feigns concern. Grabbing a hold of my forearm, delicately rubbing at the skin. "Or was that all a lie."

''Hey you ape!'' I start, snatching my arm from Hercules robust grasp and swatting at his barrel chest. ''I'm no liar.''

''Well I ain't calling you a truther.'' he cheekily retorts. Smiling smugly.

''Shut up ya boob.'' I snarl. Feigning vexation. 

''Megan!'' Adonis groans. Smiling nonetheless.

''That's Gretchen to you.'' I say matter-a-factly.

''Ha ha, funny.'' he huffs.

Mouth turned up a fraction of an inch. ''Don't you want to know this big apes name?'' he queries. Tone weary, but cheerful.

I shake my head. Already knowing that answer. ''Your names King.''

''King?'' he amuses.

''Well I do have a bit of royal blood coursing through these veins.'' he praises himself. Ego standing tall & attentive... sexy narcissistic asshole. 

''No you knob.'' I state, giggling at his random high and mighty demeanor. ''King, like King Kong."

''Well if I'm King Kong; does that make you the damsel I take and climb buildings with?'' he questions. Sounding weirdly enthralled by the perplexing statement.

"Actually,'' I begin. Coy demeanor threatening to break as I mutter;

''I'm usually the one doing all the climbing, Big boy." I seductively slur. Watching as Apollo slowly stalks toward me as if I were prey.

There he stands in between spread limbs, situating calloused palms onto luxuriant thighs.

Steadily does he crouch down to my ear, muttering a teasing; "Oh yeah, Gretchen?" sultry breath fanning over my ear. Nothing hard, just a light, soft blow.

The balmy exhalation caressing the inside of my ear sends chills up my spine and I've the urge to pounce on this fine specimen of a man. He reacts, not even bothering with suppressing the snicker he emits when my legs began to tremble in desire.

So you find this funny huh, Hercules.

Well paybacks a bitch; and I quite like her.

Deciding to be a bit _mischievous,_ I grab a hold of those luxurious— _wavy_ locks of his.

Loosely wrapping my arms around his veined neck. Effectively pulling him in my line of sight.

''I quite like the name Cupcake, King Hercules.'' I seductively whisper. Chuckling to myself when he visibly tenses up. Taking a step back, obviously flustered by my daring move.

''Um.... we-well sweetheart, now do you wish to leave your bevvy and accompany me to the dance floor?'' he questions. Voice low, tone uncertain.

Stumbling over his words. Gesturing from my long forgotten drink to his muscular physique. I react;

Steadily nodding my head in agreement, fruitlessly trying to hop off the mountain-like bar stool.

''Come hither, Milady.'' Adonis declares.

Feigning a posh accent as he walks away from the alluring blue eyed beauty. Silently praying that he'd follow.

''Oh why thank you, your majesty." the smaller of the two dryly mutters to himself as he watches the herculean man walk further and further away; only to stop a few feet away from him. Standing directly in the midway of the perspiring cluster of bodies.

Anxiously waiting for the pixie-like lad to join him.

The other party taking note of his sudden change in demeanor.

The unmistakable feeling of uneasiness hitting ocean eyes like a pile of bricks as he stands leering his potential fuck.

Confidently does our elfin heroine pace- almost bounding, directly toward the stranger with the stately, yet jocular air. Stopping right in front of his Apollo. Slinky muttering, "I'm gonna show you who's really in charge, my King." the slight lad coyly murmurs.

The hot, sultry melody of The Weeknds _'Wicked Games'_ blares throughout the club when Louis seizes Apollos palms; placing them at his lower waist. Expertly swaying his hips from left to right, in sluggard figure-eights with slightly bent knees.

''Come on.'' Blue eyes heatedly breathes; dancing like a professional. ''Move for me.'' he indistinctly murmurs. Filthy grinding his round derriere against his partners crotch.

Hercules only response being a strangled grunt as he keeps constant pressure on both their bodies. Locking the two together as tight as possible.

I could tell Adonis was totally turned on. I could feel the evidence bump up against my thigh every time time our hips met. The poor guy must have been so uncomfortable as he seemed to adjust himself every few minutes. 

During one particularly pounding song, Adonis wrapped his powerful arms around my waist and pulled me close. At one point, he held me tight with his left arm & grabbed my chest with his right. Slipping his palm into my t-shirt, tweaking at my nipple, which was already standing at the attention.

Sweat was pouring down my neck and back. Warm liquid dripping down my legs. I felt slutty, so sexy.

Apollo was adding variety to his hip movements. Paying close attention to the smaller boys reactions as he rubs his semi-erect cock against Louis' plump arse.

''You like that, Daddy?'' Louis smirks; taunting all the while.

Rolling his head onto his strangers chest, thoroughly enjoying himself.

''I can give you more.'' he promises, getting a bit more into their grinding. Pressing his body a little harder against Hercules, if that were even possible. Causing him to release a strangled whine.

Louis' overall getting them even closer. Placing the strangers hands in more intimate spots like his upper thigh.

After a sensational Troye Sivan song, it was clear to any on looker that the two couldn't take their _'discreet'_ attraction of one another any longer. As the song slowly comes to an end Louis drags his Adonis from the dance floor. Leading him to a dark corner unoccupied of club inhabitants.

He's fast in his motions.

Shoving his stranger into said corner, trapping him. Patiently waiting for his consent.

Apollo looks amused by Louis' dominant conduct.

Peering into those lilac blue peepers, he nods. The unspoken words telling the other party it's okay to take control.

Letting his hands do the talking, Louis bravely touches Apollos bulbous bulge to show what he has in mind.

Casually caressing. Firmly groping at the swollen member to show he means business.

Leisurely does the pocket sized lad stand on the tips of his toes. Tugging his stranger down to meet thin lips. Passionately kissing the prince charming.

Hercules tongue battles for the dominance that Louis' isn't allowing him to have. At the sudden challenge he gnaws at his strangers bottom lip; noiselessly letting him know who's in charge. Giving him a taste of what he can expect.

But, that gets cut when Adonis reaches into his front pocket retrieving a cellular device. _'So that's whats been quivering against my thigh.'_ Louis thinks as his stranger accepts the call. Ego deflated with the knowledge of his strangers erection not being the cause of his seductive actions, but by that of a vibrating telephone.

''Hello?'' Apollo chirps. Taking this opportunity to switch their positions. Effortlessly, might I add.

Sandwiching the smaller lad between both the wall and himself.

''Yes, I was in the mist of... doing something actually.'' he smirks unashamedly. Long, delicate fingers brush at Louis' crotch, making him release faint groans.

''No. That was the t.v. just now, I'm okay. We can talk, love. I was just getting up to make myself a midnight snack.'' Apollo chuckles into the receiver; pushing Louis further against the wall. Kissing at his neck and jawline.

Blue eyes reacts, gripping at Hercules forearm. Trying to stop the others seductive attacks.

''End the call.'' he grumbles, faintly. Not wanting to make any obscene sounds the caller might overhear.

''Can't.'' Hercules whispers, flipping his phone around for me to see. "It's my mom." he apologetically mutters. And,

**what the hell!**  

Louis doesn't believe that answer, simply because it didn't make any sense. If he already had a partner he should have just said so, not put their contact name under 'Mom'.

''Why the hell would your mother be calling you at two in the morning?'' Louis arrogantly questions. He can't be serious.

''For reasons.'' Hercules defensively answers; opting to continue whatever conversation he was having with his mother.

''Hmm, I'm still here. Yes. Okay.'' he speaks, unbuttoning the minuscule lads jeans. Slipping a palm into his boxers, slowly stroking at his member. All the while he rattles on the _'I'll see you soons'_ and _'love you toos'_ , finally saying his goodbyes; Adonis ends the call.

Olive eyes meeting ocean blue.

Apollo appears to be just tad a bit annoyed as he speaks, ''Sorry love, but I gotta go.'' Louis deeply frowning at the statement.

''No.'' he whines, drawling out the word. Reaching into his compact trousers, assisting Hercules in the continuation of his palming.

''You can't leave me like this.'' he pouts with pleading eyes. ''You have to finish what was started.'' Louis continues to moan. Whining at the un-comfortableness in his knickers. 

''Oh trust me I would, princess.'' Apollo snarls. ''You're the prettiest guy I've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on." He grunts. Expert hands squeezing at the base of my cock. I couldn't for the life of me utter even a proper sentence as I choke out a whimpered _''please.''_ Imploring- _craving_ for release.

''What ever happened to that dominate side of yours?'' he taunts. Relishing the slight lads submissive conduct.

Chuckling Louis implies, ''What you missed it?'' he mocks, cocking his head to the side.

He flicks his fringe once, twice, before leering. Causing his stranger to frown at the high-handed attitude.

Adonis retorts, kneading the glutinous pre-cum into the head of the others length, causing him to quiver where he stands. He simpers. Absolutely adoring how compliant his sweet boy becomes when the roles are reversed.

Why, he couldn't wait for the day when he would fuck the little blue eyed beauties brains out. Hercules will absolutely wreck him, when that day comes. And that, dear readers was a promise.

''Ahn!'' Lilac blue moans. Knees weakening the longer he holds out.

''I must admit, that subjugate side of yours was fun to watch; but the you that's honest with your body is very... _tempting_.'' Apollo bestially snarls, quickening his strokes. Hand moving at a punishing speed.

''Y-yeah!'' Louis all but screams. "Do-don't stop. Ple- don't..."

Apollo leans in, harshly rolling his hips into Louis' barley clothed root.

Dry fucking the portable lad against the wall with such brutal force. He could only imagine just how good Adonis' manhood would feel inside of him.

''But I must.'' he grunts. ''I'm needed elsewhere, Cupcake.'' his stranger states. Halting after every few thrusts, doting the way Louis pitifully writhes where he stands. Whining as he firmly grasps onto the others shirt.

''Pl-ease. I-i can't... al-most...ahn!''

''Awe, baby boy. You want it so bad, don't you?'' Hercules groans. Wanting to blow off his meeting and fuck his beautiful boy against this very wall. "So ready for my cock. Aren't you, Sugar.''

''Yes, please! Da-'' Louis gasps. Shakily tracing at his strangers hands positioned directly at his bum.

''I'm afraid I can't give it to you now.'' Apollo voices. Tone darkening as he continues. "You've been a very naughty boy." he chuckles, tone sharp & oh so bitter. Brows furrowing at the declaration.

''Not to mention the fact that you've misinformed me of something rather important.'' he soldiers on with the asseveration. 

''I never- ngh!'' Louis' rendered speechless. Jaw going slack at the feeling of two dry fingers at his hole, hastily fucking into his tight heat.

''Your name.'' Apollo tries again. Repeatedly jabbing at Louis' prostate. Ruthless pelvis not once stopping their torturous actions.

The small-scale beauty rendered speechless as his stranger finger fucks the life out of him. Purposely missing that mind blowing spot where he wants it the most.

''You've never given me your name.'' he clarifies. The smaller snapping out of spiraling thoughts as he tries to make out the words spoken towards him.

''I told you its- ah!'' Louis shrieks. The feeling of his strangers fingers no longer present. He whines;

slumping forward onto Hercules rough hewed chest. Handballing at his shirt.

''Oh, please fuck me. Fuck me, please.'' Louis cries. ''I want it so bad, Daddy!'' Wretchedly does he snivel out. Treacherous tears escaping from steel blue eyes as the itch from deep within begins to burn from the inside out.

With Louis resting on the tips of his toes, his ass was sticking up and it puckered at the sudden lose of attention. Almost as if it was waiting to be kissed.

He separated his cheeks, necking at thin pink lips.

Hungrily licking all over before pushing his tongue inside. The kiss was bitter, maybe even more so, but it was no less appetizing.

Apollo pushed a finger in his anus, wet with his saliva.

Single digits getting crushed as the softness of the angelic boys walls squeezed at the brutish intrusion. The flesh moving at his strangers fingering had the tiny lad squealing. Pain or pleasure, we'll never know.

Apollo reaches into his pants, wiping out his erection. It was thick and stiffened to where it was aching for some much needed action.

He added another finger to his bottom while simultaneously stroking at his manhood.

Louis was practically purring. ''Oh, god. That feels so good...''

His soft, bedroom voice was almost as much of a turn on as playing with his sweet ass. Adonis wanted to hear him moan while fucking him with his length.

Adonis fingered him slowly; as far as his digits would allow him to go.

He pulled them back until the tips were almost out, and slowly, rammed them back in.

The sight was almost hypnotizing. 

Apollo was salivating at the thought of tasting the smaller boys ass mixed with the alcohol sitting on his taste buds as he dove in for another make out session.

''Mmm, you taste so damn delicious.'' he said between deep breathes and intense licks.

The bitter/sweet mixture was indeed tasty.

Louis reached back to help with the spreading of his ass cheeks, ''I want you _so_ bad.'' he groans unashamed.

Dominant persona long forgotten as his submissive alter-ego shines through. Practically kneeling at the man of power.

''Yeah I know.'' he cheekily remarks, removing both index & forefinger.

Erotically licking away at saturated fingers. ''Check your pockets.'' Apollo winks. Chuckling at the others confused state. ''Left you a little surprise.''

Leaning in one last time he kisses Louis' forehead muttering, ''It'd be wise to not let anyone, including yourself; help you with your little... problem.'' He smirks. Mirth lingering in mossy irises. ''Until next time, _Gretchen_.'' and he's gone. Leaving Louis high and dry, with a small sting in his chest.

The hell is this, heartburn?

''Well; there goes my fuck of the night.'' Louis irritably mumbles, departing from his now dreary spot on the wall. Immediately taking notice of the semi he's sporting, due to Hercules ditching him for his _'mom'_ , rather than simply giving him release.

''Fuck, I need a smoke." he sullenly declares.

Tugging out the coffin nail safely tucked away behind nibble ears and producing a lighter from the front of his pockets.

Awkwardly shuffling out of the now musky clubs backdoor, where he stumbles onto a horrific scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think our little, Lou finds in the alley way... and just who the hell does this Hurculean stranger think he is ?


	3. Angel Without Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''I felt like an animal, and animals don't know sin, do they?''  
> Jess C. Scott, Wicked Lovely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had full intentions on Adonis being Harry in the last chapter, but an idea struck and I just have to have this scene play out later on in this book. S.N.S !😭🤷🏾
> 
> You’ll thank me in later chapters. Also, criticism is greatly encouraged on any; & all of my posts as I’m not sure if you lot actually like the plots I come up with.... that is all. Enjoy !
> 
> -Charliee <3

* * *

 

     

 

     

 

In the dim light that oozes through a narrow gap lies the alleyway.

It's the underworld of any town: gloomy and unpleasant.

The vines that crawl up window sills and the crumbling plaster that envelopes the old stone bricks appear romantic at first but become daunting as the sun sets behind the skyline of chimneys.

Darkness is lurking in every corner inside the labyrinth of narrow passages and dead ends. Litter is dumped on the street and birds nest amongst the sprawling rot.

Instantaneously, a muffled, indistinct scream is heard from behind. The street lights flicker off and our drunken heroine is left with nothing but the orchestra of the urban night playing its eerie song.

There's an narrow lane beyond the alleyway of the club.

Leaden, dingy and dripping with unseen dangers.

Upscale buildings formed beyond the alleyway, that didn't seem to have an end.

In said passageway reside two shadowy figures that seemed to hold claim to this place, as if it were their domain. One standing and the other crouched beside a crumbled-in form that lie on the demolished ground.

The fuck are they doing?

''Hey!'' I start. Ready to tell 'em off. ''What the hell are y-''

''Tell him where the money is, before I blow’ya fucking head off!'' The crouching individual shouts.

Gun aimed at the figure sprawled out on the floor.

From the accent alone, I note that he's indeed British... probably originated from Birmingham; because of it's thickness.

''Please. I-i don't... ah!'' the battered man howls in pain. The goon hunched forward to the out stretched victim, repeatedly striking at his face.

Oh my word. Their fucking lunatics!

''Listen mate, you've two options. Either tell us the moneys location.''

The more brawny ruffian states, wickedly. Digging around in his suits pockets, later extracting a lighter & fag.

''Or... die.''

I raised an brow as he inhaled slowly, his system no doubt responding to the smoke. The feeling of your lungs being wrapped by a warm blanket. 

''Your choice.'' he simpers, voice slow and gravelly.

''But I don't-'' **whack!**

The blow came, knocking him backwards, as thick- _warm_  ichor spread.

Respire escaped my body when his head smacked against the unforgiving ground.

He was choking, trying to regain air. Blood coating his shirt as it trickled down his mouth and nose.

''Listen you fucking idiot. I'm trying to be nice for once in my damn life!'' he rages.

''I've given you choices.'' he smirks.

With a shrug of his shoulder, does he continue. 

''Choices that were limited. And you chose death.'' The bandit taunts. Tone a parody of resigned reasonableness.

''So I'll grant your wish.'' he rasps. Peering over the injured mans head, eyes locking in on his companion.

''Zayn.'' he murmurs. 

Lolling his head _'Zayn'_ replies; ''Yes, boss.'' The thug lovingly chirps. Lips curling into a twisted, sickening smirk.

Bingo!

One sick fuck down, one to go. Oh their so not getting-

''End him.'' The vandal boss nonchalantly demands, with a shrug of his shoulders.

And... wait- what!?

''No wait I'll talk! I'll-'' the injured party attempts to comply. Just barely finishing his sentencing before being backhanded.

''Shut the hell up would you.'' Zayn huffs out. 

He wasn't thinking when he let out his boiling antipathy and swung his tight fist, too quick and potent, into his preys jaw. The impact like thousands of venomous blades piercing apart his clammed fist. It lead our protagonist to one conclusion... that it hurt like hell.

''All your damn yelling is giving me a headache.'' he vocalizes. Resting his head in his hands.

His boss let out a worrisome sound at the mans otherwise pointless pleas.

''Do you not remember your choice, you dolt? There are no take backs.'' he amuses.

It was a high cold cackle, piercing the smoky air.

''Your call, Boss.'' Zayn speaks, patiently wiping at his pocket knife.

Practically beaming at the thought of murdering the man.

His supposed _boss_  unashamedly emitting, ''On the count of three, yeah?'' he questions, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

''Ha. Count away.'' Zayn sniggers. Cocking his M9, anxiously awaiting the count down.

''One.'' he begins, grabbing at his victims tie, uselessly dabbing at the laters busted lip.

''I'm sure you'd want to look presentable when facing your God's judgement.'' he leers, gingerly tucking the blokes tie back into his dress shirt.

Gee wiz!

Thank the heavens he wiped that horrid blood away & made fix to his quarries ruffled appearance. For our Lord and Savior would have had such a fit if he'd came knocking on the pristine gates of heaven sullied.

 _'Such a sweetheart, he is!'_ I mentally sass.

Hey don't judge. I may be pie-eyed, but I'm not that drunk.

Taking an apathetic step away from the mans limp body, he continues the tee off.

''Two.'' he and Zayn say in union. Not a pinch of remorse shown on eithers face.

Shit! Their serious? If I don't act now that guys gonna...

''Thr-''

With out thinking, I spring from my hiding place. Jumping directly in from of the guns intimidating barrel.

Taking this _'Zayn'_ character by surprise, as he lands on his ass.

''No!'' I mumble. Drunkenly trying to remove the firearm from his tight grip.

''What the hell?'' he clamors. Trying to find his footing.

''Y-you can't!'' I yawp. Fear halting my words, but with a few puffs, I push through.

''You... you can't take a life that isn't yours to be taken.'' I bawl. Blindly laying weak jabs at the others face. Which is sexy as hell might I add.

What the hell is a model doing in a scene like this anyway?

Does he owe a large sum of money to his  _'boss'-_  fella and this is the alternative to paying off his loan?

Shouldn't he be at a photo shoot or something.

With a scattered mind; paired with my already sluggish movement, the bloke in question hands abruptly slid across my throat.

Ocean blues widening in surprise when his grip tightened like that of a boa-constructor.

''Who the fuck do you think you are kid!'' he snarls, standing to his full height. Miniscule feet hovering over the concrete ground.

I begin scrabbling.

Trying- though failing, to get ahold of leverage so that I could pry his large- _muscular_ , mitts from my throat. I knew he could feel my pulse drumming as if it were that of a frightened rabbit, & I knew the thrill he got had to of felt good.

''What's the matter? Frog in your throat.'' He maniacally laughs as I choked and sputtered.

Ignoring my gasps & scraping nails that were furiously scratching my captors hands; squeezing at my neck.

His eyes were full of evil as I emitted the tiniest whimper before my body went limp, submitting in his grasp.

''Zayn.'' a raspy voice speaks from behind my weakened form.

I cringe. Body cowering into Zayns chest as I'm just now remembering the other goons presence.

The boss.

''That's quite enough.'' he dully states with a cock of his head accompanied with an exaggerated huff.

''He's just some stupid little kid, sticking his nose where it don't belong. So just drop 'em, yeah.'' the toughie tries to reason.

The hand around my throat loosens a if only just a bit when my feet touch the ground. He might have put me down but he doesn't unbridle.

''What do you suppose we do with 'em, boss?'' Zayn questions. Fingers tensing around my neck then releasing.

His boss does not reply straight away; as he instead takes another drag of the cigarette before blowing out the deadly smoke, he breathes; ''Nothing.'' the bigwig states. Cocking the cigarette down, before inhaling it's fumes.

''Let 'em go. Leave and take the parasite with you. I've got this.''

''But-'' Zayn starts but instead gets cut off by an formidable chime so frightening that I curl into this Zayn fellow even more so. I react, gripping at surprisingly soft hands and an ash- _black_ button down shirt. Burying my face in the crook of his neck, ineffectively concealing myself from the recently developed threat as I blubber through pouted lips.

''Shall I repeat myself?'' He queries.

The smirk grew over his face like a lazy teacher's check mark, the faded _''red ink''_ stretching up into his dimple. Taking slow- _threatening_ steps towards Zayn and myself does he articulate; ''Fucking. Leave.''

It would seem Zayn had no choice but to abide by his boss's order as he sibilates a rather forced; ''Yes, Sir.'' before reluctantly departing the scene. The battered civilian being dragged away by two fit blokes shortly after. Triumphantly leaving me in the Devil's playground, scared and alone.

''You.'' the curly headed ruffian enunciates. Alarmingly vacant orbs hold amusement as I stumble a step back, not at all thrilled of each others close proximity.

''M- me?'' I stutter.

Hoping- _praying_ there was someone other than the two of us in the alleyway.

Preferably that sin of a man, Adonis. He'd no doubt defend my honor, like a knight in shinning armor my mind depicted him to be in this very moment. But alas, I knew that was wishful thinking.

''Who the fuck else would I be talking to, the wall?'' the goon chuckles before his face hardens, effectively snapping me out of my thoughts.

He cocks his head, extending an arm. ''Come to me.'' he demands with emotionless features.

Oh hell no! So he can end me with no witnesses to say otherwise thus throwing my emancipated body into the ocean for sharks to consume!?

'I'd rather join a stupid boyband than listen to this blokes orders.'

''I-i don't wanna.'' I drone. This time taking two steps back.

Trying to create some distance between us as he slowly stalks towards my shaky exterior.

''Listen kid. I'm not going to repeat myself.'' he warns. Emerald irises narrowing in on me, meaty lips set in a hard line.

''So, listen to me when I tell you, bring your ass here now!'' He growls with every menacing step he takes towards me.

He's mental if he thinks I'm gong to listen to him.

Quickly spinning on my heel do I make a mad dash towards the clubs backdoor; but I don't get far, as the vandal slams into my portable physique, sending us both tumbling onto sooty waste bins.

He grips the collar of my shirt, ramming me into the clubs bare brick exterior. ''Did you really think that would work, baby girl?'' the bruiser cynically crows.

''Let me go!'' I spit with closed eyes. Trying my absolute best to free myself from his strong hold; but my attempt proves futile.

''Listen kid I don't follow demands, I make them. So you should really listen when I tell you to calm down.'' he voices. Had I not known any better I'd have missed the promised threat in his timbre. 

Cold sweat glistened on his furrowed brow.

With hands clasped tightly in front of his stomach he constantly fiddled with his knuckles, weaving his fingers in and out of each other. 

''If- if you do not release me right this instant, I swear I'll scream bloody murder!'' I challenge. Daring him to disobey.

''You'd do that for little ole' me?'' he drawls. Voice tinged with mirth as he stands chortling at the intensified scrutiny I bestowed upon him. 

''I swear; I'll do it!'' I reiterate. Tone wavering at the blatant act of roguery.

''Do humor me, Princess. No one will come.'' he speaks with finality.

''And, what makes you so sure of that notion? The law will come.'' I voice.

''Well, I am the law.'' he smirks. And I am left in shell shock.

Even the wind slackened for a moment as if unwilling to blow without his permission. ''I am the chief. Head honcho. Baby boy, I'm Kingpin around these parts.''

Our bruise blue eyed heroine clenches his fists tightly, until his nails dig into the palm of his hand, but he barely notices. As the only thing he is really aware of is the sound of his heart throbbing against the cage of his chest.

It's not until he looks away, into a puddle not far from where the two stand, that he's apprised he's been biting his lips so badly it bleeds the color of rosebuds. 

I stare at him.

He stared at me.

I have no idea for how long we gawked at one another, but Curly was first to break the quietude.

''How much did you see and hear?'' He shot me a disgusted look, slowly invading my personal space. That's when I noticed how gorgeous he actually was, despite his dipshit demeanor. And then, all too soon- _the unthinkable happened_.

The day had been simply dark and overcast, but in seconds it became a wall of water. The clubs roofing offered no shelter; droplets the size of almonds smashed their way through the foliage above.

Our footwear was quickly overwhelmed, water seeping in through the stitching.

We were sodden. We were cold.

In the tropics we would have still been warm, but this was temperature London. 

The water droplets sluicing down his wet skin was so sexy that I wanted to lick them away, one by one. The belting around his hips slipped a notch, making me catch my breath in anticipation of what lay underneath if revealed.

My eyes trailed up his toned arms and muscular chest, then focused on his nipples, puckered into hard- _little_ buds that I wanted to feast on all day long. His lips were a rosey red, and utterly kissable. I couldn't help but envision them wrapped around my already hard cock. 

''Like what you see?'' I snapped my eyes back to his and... what the hell just happened?

Did I just leer at this thug?

With a shrug, I managed to recover my composure. ''Don't inflate your ego any larger than it already is.'' I assert.

This time, Curly appeared to be more undaunted.

I hope that it was just my imagination that he looked somewhat... triumphant.

''Really.'' He leers.

Sidestepping closer towards me until our bodies pressed together and our lips millimeters apart.

I could feel his breath mingling with mine. The aromatic savor of rosemary and mint shampoo combined with the immense surge of body heat made my heart stop. Literally. 

I struggled for control over my mindset even as my body started giving in to it's heinous desires.

''Really, really.'' fixing to tell him off. But even in my drunken state I know that it'd be a bad idea.

I just knew I'd slur over my wordings. Thereupon, I settle for less as I pronounce; ''That proof enough.'' I could have just eaten those words.

''Proof?'' He simpers willfully. ''This is all the validation I need.'' He rejoins. Veined teasers kneading at my angry length, which was still encased in my dark blue Levi's jeans for prominence. I unwilled _'_ _and I'm sure, very unwillingly'_ mewled at the abrupt act. 

''Liked that, I see.''

I retaliate; clambering for the last vestiges of control before they ebbed away.

''No. I don't.'' I managed to grit out.

''I'm a guy. My body responds to being touched. Now get your dirty paws off me.'' I extend feeble limbs. Trying of so diligently to push him away, only to receive an carnal mash on my cock, making it flutter and dilate in acknowledgment. 

My hands betray me.

Instead of shoving the bully boy away, they instead grip at his shoulders as I dissipate beneath a wave of cosmic pleasure.

Vaguely, do I discern the resound of someone moaning in the background. Their cries so delicate; so pleasurable I- ...wait. 

Was that me?

Nah. Can't be.

Impossible... right?

I felt my girdle being unbelted and my zipper pulled down. I was manhandled against the clubs building outer exterior. The feel of my rear stoutly wedged against the stone cold wall. My extremity mewling in protest.

''What a good- _obedient_ boy you are. I would never have thought that of you.'' does he pay tribute to.

He proceeds, gliding his organ of taste across my lower lip. Appraising it's firmness, later gnawing at it teasingly. 

''W- wait. I think I...i–'' But before I could even attempt to finish my sentence, his lips closed over mine.

They were warm and more intoxicating than any being I'd ever kissed. I was drowning in a buss like some virgin schoolboy.

At the back of my mind, I knew that I should be doing something to retaliate; but when his hot tongue slid against mine, I completely lost it.

I returned his smacker feverishly. Pulling the bandit flush against my frame and compressed my clothed root against his palm. Unruly working my hips in a palsy-walsy rhythm, pitilessly latching onto bare shoulders. 

He leers. ''Tu veux ma bite n'est-ce pas, Bijou?''

''I see that you crave it very much indeed." I suppress a groan as Desperados balmy hand slips into my lingerie. Leisurely withdrawing my traitorous prick; the tip dewy-eyed and gleaming with cock slobber. 

For some reason, his French accent elevated me. It sounded so external and alluring, Desperado could have been talking about the fact of mosquitoes having teeth and I'd still think it was sexy.

Teasingly, he traces over a lone vein with a single digit. Pausing at the mushroom shaped head before kneading at it with his thumb in slow circles, eliciting a low growl from my eager being. 

One touch and it was over.

It was always like that with Tomlinson.

He felt electricity in his skin; hormones shutting down in his higher brain and the rise of his primal self.

From there on out it was all passion, intense- _intoxicating_.

It was his release, his escape, an inherent drug... not that he was easy.

No, our lewd heroine knew well enough to avoid permitting some low-life thug lay his tarnished mitts on him. Yet with chemistry, with real love & affection, too many of his circuit breakers were flicked for a reverse gear to be feasible. And if smitten all he could do was go along with the ride and pray his instincts were right.

I claimed his lips as mine again when he started to stroke my cock, applying pressure in all the right places. "Fuck. That feels good," I murmured. He rewarded my comment with steady strokes of his hand, pumping my cock to a fast rhythm that I readily gave in to.

He sniggers down at me; all traces of his usually blithe demeanor gone. What replaced it was the expression of an individual who knew that he was in total control, & loving it.

''Do you feel it? I'm in rule, so how's about you be a good boy and don't move your hands.

I'm gonna drive you crazy, then stop, and repeat the process all over again until you're begging for release. And even then, I won't grant your wish. I'll instead do every naughty commodity to you until both your mind and body detonate.'' Desperado declares. My anatomy shuddering at the notion.

''Now, relax. Lie back and let me make you cum.'' The lager lout increases the speed of his palm, until his movements almost became that of a blur. I was close... so close. 

In a split second before his final touch every nerve in my body and brain is electrified. It's the anticipation of being together in a way that's more than words, in a way that's so completely tangible as I explode. 

''Oooh, fuck! I'm... I'm cumming. Fuck, Des!'' Breathing hard, I fucked into his callous hand. Making it a goal to cover it with tremendous ropes of _creamy_ cum and then licking it off of his fingers afterwards.

My platform vans dig into the earth. The grass around is damp rather than wet and the fall leaves still have a crunch to them.

As Desperado thrusts inward all I see is his face, the leaves above and the sky almost midnight blue, the moon a milky crescent. Our breaths rise in visible puffs and though there is a soft wind we are warm with one another.

We're too old for dry-humping. 

And outdoors nonetheless. It should be all silk sheets and rose petals; but right now, in this moment I don't care and neither does he. For tomorrow this memory will be what gets us through our days, and in our old age it will be the source of our grins. 

But then- _all too soon_ , it was gone.

That delicious pressure on my aching cock was just... extinct. For a few seconds, my mind didn't completely register what had happened. 

I didn't understand. Doesn't he want me?

''That's all I needed to see. My point is proven. You want me.'' The victorious smirk was back on his face, chiseled features morphing into that of an accursed angel. ''Take care of that on your own & try not to give in so eagerly next time, will you? You're less fun that way, heh.'' With that, he turns and walks away. And once again, I'm left high and Canada dry. Underwear soaked through and cock throbbing. 

It was then that it hit me.

I was so airless and vexed that I might have violated him right then and there if he hadn't fled like the shithead he was.

That damn prick.

White knuckles from fists clenched way too hard and gritted teeth from the immense effort to remain silent, until the Desperado was completely out of visage.

His hunched form excluded an animosity that was like acid. Burning- _slicing_. Potent.

His brazen scarlet with suppressed rage as he took the humiliation like a man.

Later defying the two outsiders direction.

Finishing off in the bathroom. Embracing the resentment that suffused afterwards.

Desperado...

I was furious both at myself for submitting so nimbly to his touch and at him for being such a total bastard & lording it over me.

My facial expression sank faster than a penny on a pond. Skin becoming pale and icy as white itself.

Was I even breathing?

Every thought in my mind was silenced into denial and grief.

The need for revenge was like a rat gnawing at his soul, relentless- _unceasing_. It could only be stopped by the cold steel of a rat trap. A trap he would devise himself in due time.

Our maudlin heroine smiles coquettishly. A predatory glint entering lobelia blue optics.

''Pay backs a bitch, Curly.'' he sneers to none other than himself. ''And I quite like her.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> ''Tu veux ma bite n'est-ce pas, Bijou?'' -French
> 
> ''You want my cock don't you, Bijou?'' -English
> 
>  bi·jou  
> /ˈbēZHo͞o,bēˈZHo͞o/  
> Learn to pronounce  
> adjective: BRITISH  
> 1.  
> (especially of a residence or business establishment) small and elegant.  
> "the greasy spoons have given way to bijou restaurants"  
> synonyms: small, little, compact, snug, cozy; desirable, sought-after; elegant, stylish, chic, fashionable  
> "a bijou Chelsea flat"  
> noun: ARCHAIC  
> 1.  
> a jewel or trinket.
> 
>    
> Bijou is a pet name Desperado has given our blue eyed heroine.


End file.
